(Book 2) This Could B Us

Part 25

I leave the kitchen area, heading back to the Atrium, the woman at the desk points me around the corner, "Studio A," is all she says to me, I thank her, and keep walking.

I see the plaque on the wall that lets me know I'm at the right place. I turn the knob, and slowly ease the door open.

Prince is in front of me before I can manage two steps in. I'm taken aback on two things. First, I have never been in an actual recording studio before and I'm amazed by it. Two, someone or something has flipped Prince's switch, he's excited and animated, not even close to the man I woke up with this morning.

He leads me over to a chair, he's grinning like a Cheshire Cat as he slips big headphones over my head.

"Remember that song I sang to you at your place, here it is finished."

The song plays through and it's nothing like the acoustic version I had heard before, I really love it even more. Then he plays X's Face, amazing, so much different than the live version he played for me before the event, it's edgy.

He goes through a couple other songs that he played at the event, HARDROCKLOVER and FALLINLOVE2NITE. Since they were so well received, he decided that they would fit well onto this album.

"I didn't know you were working on a new album, that's great," I say, now I know why he's so excited.

"There will be a tour, also. I'll be trying something new, an all female band. I'm going to call it 3rd Eye Girl," he waits for my reaction, he seems happy I'm intrigued.

He goes on to explain that he will be disbanding the NPG, and working strictly with three talented ladies that he's come across recently. The tour should start the beginning of next year if all falls into place. I take this all in wondering where I fit in in this equation. I have reminded myself several times these past couple weeks what Kim had said to me about enjoying this ride as long as it lasts.

As we discuss the disbanding, I can see this is something that could be affecting his mood. As anxious as he is to start this new endeavor, the NPG is like family to him, a family that he's about to turn lose. I pray I can hold out through this storm, but I also wonder if it's just a matter of time before I'm next to be cut.

More songs get played for me and his mood continues to improve. I know this man is music, and I love and respect him for that, but I worry how little effort is going to put into being in a relationship. He buys me things, but I don't want things, it's nice, don't get me wrong, but I do need at least minimal companionship.

The moment I knew was coming arrives. He's done playing me songs and sharing, now he has to work.

"I need to get working on this again," he eyes me thoughtfully.

"I know," I smile, pressing a kiss to his lips. "It's what you do," I grin, using his phrase.

"Sugar," he strokes my cheek, "Where have you been all my life?" He embraces me.

I whisper into his ear the first thing that pops into my head, "You weren't ready for me yet."

Pulling back he searches my face, trying to decipher the meaning of my words, while I debate if he really is ready for us.

"I think you're right," the comment is thoughtful. He turns and plops into his chair, sighing. "You distract me," he admits, this instantly puts me on edge.

"Good or bad?" I'm afraid to ask, but I need to know.

He scrunches his face, brows furrow, he presses his lips tight, thinking. His eyes meet mine, "Both."

I fight a panic attack, "Do you want me to go? Like, back to Tennessee?" The last question come out in a whisper, my throat feels like it's closing.

His face shows the panic I was just feeling, "No!"

He's up and out of the chair, and across the room in seconds. Dropping to his knees at my feet, he looks up pleadingly, as hands rest on the backs of my legs, "Please don't leave me."

I fight back tears, the look of desperation on his face rips my heart out. I reach down, stroking his face, "Prince, I'm not going anywhere as long as you need me."

Putting his head against my legs, he whispers, "Thank you."

Relief spreads through me as he stands, taking me into his arms, we stay this way for what seems like forever, but still, not long enough.

"I do have to get back to work, though," his face is a mix of disappointment and his desire to create.

Before I can think about it, "You know where to find me," slips from my lips, sounding more like a jab instead of a fact.

Looking hurt, he says, "Sugar, I know I haven't really been home, I'm sorry. As soon as I wrap this up and start rehearsals, it will get better."

"I really didn't mean for it to come out that way, Prince. I don't want you to think for one second I'm ungrateful for anything you've done for me, but a pretty house doesn't make a home."

"I know," he says quietly. I can see in his eyes that this is a conversation he's had before, and I'm not going to push him.

I pull him in for one last squeeze, and whisper in his ear, "You do what you do, and I'll do what I do. I have a garden to design, Mister," I kiss his cheek.

He's smiling as he pulls away, "You've got a bigger job ahead of you than I do," he chuckles.

I laugh nodding vigorously, "You got that right. I'm going to wander around here for a bit before I go, will I have to explain myself?"

"Nope," he seems pleased I'm not running off, "You've already meet everyone that's here."

"I love you, music man," as my hand reaches for the doorknob, I wink at him.

"I love you, too, garden girl," he makes a kissy face.

We are both smiling as I leave the room.